Gavel and a Hard Place
by Starwind77
Summary: In which Edgeworth meets the Larry and co matchmaking agency, Wright investigates a completely different kind of case, and we all learn why Pearl is the true expert in romantic matters. It's crack fic, what can I say? WrightEdgeworth eventually.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Gavel and a Hard Place  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing:** OFC x Edgeworth, Wright x Edgeworth (eventually)  
**Word Count: **7,749  
**Description:** After the DL-6 trial, Edgeworth lets slip a crucial secret...which earns him a one-way ticket to Larry and co's Matchmaking Extravaganza. Hilarity ensues.  
**Author's Note:** Joint crack fic written with queenofbatpig XD although later chapters will contain some serious moments and angst 3. I bent the timeline a little, allowing Pearl to come in early despite the fact that she doesn't show up till GS2-2 in canon. Don't worry, there's a reason for it later on.

The Wright and co. law offices had seen its share of unusual events, from spirit channeling to circus acts to downright murder on its premises. The little two-room headquarters might not seem like the type of place where battles were fought, but it was surprisingly resilient in the face of danger – not to mention 2 a.m. case meetings and at least one toxic Ramen spill of which Maya was aware. (She had a pretty good idea of who caused it. The only question was whether Nick could take himself to court).

However, on this particular day...another crime was taking place. Scattered across the main intake desk was a heap of glossy, color photographs – not of murder suspects or criminals, but women. Beautiful, model-quality women all posing with sultry smiles for the camera. Some wore silk skirts riding high up long, black boots; others leaned back against lively beach montages, two-piece swimsuits damp with sea foam as they sipped from tall, tropical fruit cocktails. All were drop-dead gorgeous.

…And all came from Larry's collection of Dateable Single Chicks to Check Out.

"Hey, Larry, how about her?" Maya waved a photo of a dark blonde with pretty, light blue eyes over at her partner-in-crime, currently perched on the edge of Phoenix's client sofa. He was busily sifting through a pile of pictures himself.

"Her?" Larry shook his head empathetically, tan curls bouncing. "No can do, Maya."

"Aw, come on!" The other pouted. "You don't like any of my suggestions!" She looked down at the stack of discarded photos by her side. At least half of those came from her slice of the matchmaking pile, divided up between the two of them. "She's so pretty," Maya insisted, "what's wrong with that?"

"…Exactly."

"Huh?" Maya blinked.

Larry's expression took on that of profound enlightenment. "That flowing, honey hair. Those inviting sky blue eyes. That voluptuous smile." He paused dramatically, then broke into a rouge-cheeked whimper. "She's exactly my type. I can't let him have her!"

Maya's own cheeks puffed out in annoyance. "You just said you're doing this for him!"

"Eheh, shouldn't people who do good get some good in return?" Rubbing the back of his neck, Larry pasted on an idiotic grin that turned into something of a sheepish simper, sweat drops rolling down the side of his face. He tried his best to look noble and selfless, but only succeeded in nearly toppling off of his seat on the couch.

Maya sighed.

_I'm starting to wonder if he's just doing this for himself._

"Well, come on, do you have a suggestion then? These are friends of yours, right? You should know who'd be a good match for him."

"Well, to be honest…" He scratched the side of his head, eyes wandering off to one side. That grin returned to his face again. "I don't know any of them. I just got these photos from a friend of a friend of a friend of a – "

"Huh? I thought we're supposed to get a list of people you know."

"No good." Larry shook his head. "I've dated everyone I know. I might not look it, but I'm a gentleman. Can't let my best friend have my leftovers." He pounded his chest.

_Didn't Nick say he was dumped by all his girlfriends? Can they really be counted as leftovers then? I've got to ask Nick about this._

Maya pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"Anyways, once we're done setting him up, I'll make sure to get to know all of them personally. That works just as well, right?" Larry was smiling just a little too genuinely, eyes shut cat-like in what could only be described as the Butz Leer. A sure portent of less-than-innocent insinuations behind supposedly innocuous words.

Hanging her head, Maya gave up.

_He's planning to date all of them. He's really doing this just for himself._

Nevertheless, it was up to her to continue the mission, no matter what the cost. With eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, she dove back into the array of photographs, determined to find the one person perfect for the match they were plotting.

A slight creak of the door interrupted her deliberation.

"Mystic Maya, there you are!" A shy, cheerful voice called. In walked a little girl clad in purple sandals and the same Kurain spiritualist robes that Maya herself wore.

"Pearly!" Maya grinned, getting up. "You came to see me?"

"I don't have any training to do today. It's so nice out, let's go play!" Pearl fairly bounced with energy, feet tapping happily on the ground. The turquoise ball she held in her hands sprung up and down with her.

"I'm sorry, Pearly." Maya gave her cousin an apologetic smile. It was indeed a nice day outside, sunlight streaming warmly through the office's picture window. "But I'm busy right now."

"Whoa, Maya, who's that?" By now, Larry had leaped up from his seat by the tabletop, one hand still clutching a photo (Wait, was that even a photo? Or a magazine ad? Oh God, this guy was hopeless), as he smirked widely at the newcomer.

"That's my cousin, Pearl," Maya introduced. "I call her Pearly." She gave a perturbed glance at the too-wide smile and brilliantly flushed cheeks of her companion.

_For some reason, I don't like the way he's looking at her…_

"Pearl, eh?" Larry trailed off thoughtfully. He considered her for a second, then finally rubbed at his hair in embarrassment. "That's too bad. Well, Pearly. I'm Larry," he said as he extended a hand…perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, "but you can just call me your big brother." Maya rolled her eyes uneasily.

_I'm so not going to ask._

Pearl seemed oblivious to either Larry's advances or her own cousin's distracted demeanor. Instead, her gaze was drawn to the carpet of brightly-colored photographs covering Mr. Nick's work desk. "Mystic Maya, what are you doing?" she asked, puzzled, as she lowered the ball in her hand and walked toward the messy display. "Why are you looking at all these pictures?"

Tilting her head, she tried to read the label on the back of one, scribbled in Larry's sloppy handwriting.

Beatrice  
301-878-4230  
(Best after 6, likes a "hot time")

Maya giggled secretively. "Well, see…Do you remember Mr. Edgeworth?" she asked.

Pearl looked up, confused. "Mr. Eh-ji-worth?"

"Yes! Larry and I – " She straightened up, clapping her hands together, beaming. "We're going to find his true love!"

…Those two words were enough to set her cousin aglow.

"True…True love?" Stars sparkled in Pearl's eyes as she blushed a deep red, hands cupped cutely around her face. The temperature in the room felt like it had risen ten degrees. Her heart pounded, terribly passionate in her ears, and it was perhaps a good thing that Maya wasn't looking behind her, because Larry's eyes had turned into pinpoints of glee.

"Oh yes, you weren't there for that party, so I guess you don't know the story." Maya smiled devilishly. "Here, let me fill you in on the details!"

--o--

A clink of glasses signaled the beginning of the festive night, jazzy music emanating from the walls as wine flowed freely and laughter filled the air. The Blue Diamond bar was a low-key place, but cozy; dim overhead lamps cast a warm glow over the carved wood paneling, illuminating a few yellowed frames of L.A. back in the day, while the jukebox in the corner served up slices of golden oldies. A menu card sat in the center of the table, emblazoned in ritzy neon ("The Rarest Jewel in the City!"), boasting a variety of colorful cocktails and good old-fashioned Heinecken beer. By this time of night, there was very little on the list that had not been ordered.

Larry raised his champagne glass in a toast all around. "Hahaha, drink up, Edgey! Tonight's the night of your life!" He downed it in one gulp, then waved at the bartender for more. After all, the tab wasn't coming out of _his_ paycheck.

Miles managed a small smile as he sipped his own drink. "Thanks, Larry."

"That's the spirit!" The other man grinned, leaning in closer with a sly look on his face. His eyes darted from Edgeworth to several of the women hanging out in the next booth. "Say, after the children go to bed, why don't we kick this party up a notch? I know some real good places for us grown men to have fun." Winking wolfishly, he looked to his spiky-haired companion for support.

Puzzled, Maya turned to Phoenix and whispered, "Nick, what's he talking about? I have a feeling I'm being left out." She pouted around her glass of orange juice.

Phoenix did his best to avoid the glance, muttering, "Wh – Who knows?"

"Oh, come off it, pal!" Gumshoe yelled, red-faced, as he slammed his beer can onto the table. "You know Mr. Edgeworth isn't into — into that kinda…thing!" He sputtered, trying his best not to look like he had any clue what said "thing" was in the first place. Nevertheless, Phoenix caught a guilty glance in Larry's direction and an uncomfortable twitch of the finger.

_Probably wondering how much more he can afford to spend tonight._

"I have to agree with Detective Gumshoe here," Miles interceded smoothly. He looked hardly ruffled by his old classmate's crass suggestion. "Let's just keep our celebration inside." Raising his own flute of champagne, he sipped elegantly from the glass, a soft smirk tugging at his lips at the dark, exotic taste. Vintage Dom Perignon Rose. A fitting drink for a fittingly celebratory night. It had been years since he'd felt this relaxed, this…unburdened, that even Larry's relentless prodding barely drew a line across his forehead.

But the Butz was persistent. "Aw, you guys are no fun," he whined, waving his glass around and nearly sloshing alcohol on Edgeworth's fine Italian suit. _Definitely drunk,_ Phoenix thought to himself. "C'mon, Edgey, don't hold yourself back!" Wide grin pasted on his face, he nudged closer to his childhood companion, who gave him a worrying eyebrow raise at the sudden, near-intimate proximity.

"No, really — "

"You can't be a stick-in-the-mud all the time! I mean, grade school, that was back then. You wore _bowties_ back then." Larry rolled his eyes, kicking back in his seat. He neglected to mention the piece of sixteenth century French nobleman's attire currently knotted around Edgeworth's neck like a dead marsupial. "But now? How're you gonna bang all the pretty women?"

"Ugh!" Miles choked, nearly spilling his drink.

"Bingo!" A smile of triumph spread across Larry's face. He knew if he pushed enough, he could break through old Edgey's prim and proper exterior. A man could only deny himself for so long!

"I — no, I — " Miles stuttered incoherently. "What has that got to do with anything?" he snapped in irritation, face flushed with more than alcohol.

The other man shrugged. "You've got to let loose sometimes. Live life to the fullest, like me!" Larry poked both thumbs at himself with an idiotic grin.

"I have no idea what Larry's talking about, but he's right," Maya chimed in, perky smile at the ready. "You need to learn to have fun, Mr. Edgeworth! Find a nice girlfriend, go on some romantic dates…" She trailed off, eyes taking on that starry quality that Phoenix had seen all too often in her cousin lately. _Must run in the family, or something._ Prudently, he avoided the direction this conversation was going, though he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. Edgeworth's expression at being pinned between Larry and Maya was worth ten cross-examinations in court.

"I know soooo many girls I can hook you up with, man!" The Butz looped one arm around his victim, waving frantically at the women in the other booth – who, by now, were watching the proceedings with mixed horror and amusement. "Soon as you stop being such a workaholic."

Miles shot Phoenix a desperate glare across the table, teeth clenched below raccoon circle eyes, as he mouthed something close to a plea…but was met with nothing more than the other's faux-clueless shrug. Wright buried his nose deliberately in his drink, smiling privately at the show.

It took all of Edgeworth's self-control to bite back the 'Objection!' on the tip of his tongue.

"Really, I am not interested in that right now," he gritted out, jerking free of Larry's grasp. Smoke grey eyes fell fixedly on his champagne glass stem to the exclusion of all else in the room.

"What's the matter?" Larry asked, puzzled. Old Edgey had never looked this grim-faced before in all their childhood pranks. He stopped, surveyed his friend's expression, and Phoenix could almost hear the light bulb _ping_ on above his head when the answer made itself clear to him. "Oh! Could it be that you've already got someone on your mind?" Larry suggested with a smirk.

The sharp glance Miles gave him was all it took to seal his fate.

"How did you come up with such an absurd idea?!" he demanded severely.

"Mr. Edgeworth, you're blushing!" Maya gasped.

"Whoa." Larry blinked, eyes wide with surprise. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Wow, congratulations, pal!" Banging his beer can again, Gumshoe broke in with a loud chortle of amusement. "I can't believe I never noticed! Is it another prosecutor? Someone from the investigation team?" he pressed, leaning closer, foam clinging to the whiskers on his face.

"It's nothing like that."

"Come on, Mr. Edgeworth, be honest with yourself!" Maya demanded, dragging on Phoenix's sleeve to join in. Their combined efforts would surely reveal the facts!

Another desperate glance at Wright was only met with a helpless – albeit, more than a little curious – look of resignation, as Phoenix finally set his glass down and said mildly, "Yeah, Edgeworth, just tell everyone the truth."

The table fell silent, all eyes turned toward the prosecutor. Curious gazes, rapt smiles, a barely hidden gleam in the Butz's face…and Wright sitting there with that unreadably dense expression, like he'd been expecting this all along. Miles pursed his lips, gaze down, finger tapping haltingly on the gnarled wooden countertop. For the second time that day, his face took on an oddly vulnerable appearance.

"…Well, perhaps."

--o--

Pearl clapped a hand to her mouth, shocked. "Mr. Eh-ji-worth is in love?"

"Yeah, isn't that a shocker?" Maya grinned gleefully. "We were just teasing him, but then he got that serious look on his face!"

"Like a poor lost puppy, that's Edgey for you!" Larry stumbled forward melodramatically, one hand clapped to his forehead. "This is why the Great Larry Butz must come to the rescue! I'm going to find him a nice girl to be the love of his life," he vowed, winking with a thumbs up sign.

Nevertheless, a thin crease marred Pearl's forehead, as she chewed on a fingernail. "But I thought he already has someone he loves…" she said worriedly.

"See, that's the thing," Larry interjected. "I keep trying to get him to ask her out, but he won't do anything! Not even give me her name!" He threw his arms out helplessly. "All morning, he just buries his nose in a teacup and stares mournfully out the window. It's torture, I tell you!" Cheeks once again a brilliant red (although for a distinctly…different reason), he yelled, teeth gnashing like a shark, "How can a great guy like me just stand by and watch a buddy suffer?!"

Pearl raised an eyebrow at this temper tantrum from a man sixteen years her senior.

"So we're doing the next best thing," Maya continued brightly. She plucked one of the photographs from the pile on the table and presented it to Pearl. "We're going to find someone who would be perfect for him and set them up!"

"And he's going to do it?" Pearl still looked unconvinced.

Laughing, Larry explained, "I went over every day to offer my help, and finally, Edgeworth agreed. He couldn't turn down an old friend like me!" Larry puffed out his chest in pride. "He said, 'Okay, okay, Larry, please keep it down! I beg you, I'll do anything you say. Just don't bring this up anymore, okay?' The poor guy," he shook his head sadly, hair flopping forward. "He obviously wants my help so much, but was just too shy to ask."

"Wow, that's…" The stars returned once more to Pearl's eyes, this time accompanied by a lovely pink blush as visions of white steeds and floating castles danced before her. "That's so wonderful, Mystic Maya!" Her hair fairly flounced as she jumped up and down in happiness. "Helping out people in need – that's the goal of being a medium." Pushing up her sleeve, she fixed both of them with a determined look. "Please, if I can do anything, let me know! Mr. Eh-ji-worth must find his true love!"

Maya was smiling too, seeing her cousin so excited. "It's all right," she reassured, "we already got most of the details covered. See, he agreed to go on three dates, one with each person we pick. Since Larry's such an expert on dating and I know all about a young girl's feelings, we'll find a perfect match for sure!" However, her gaze turned to the swamp of pictures currently cluttering the coffee table, desk, and a good portion of the available floor space (the rest having been taken up by Nick's usual court paraphernalia). "…Thing is, though, Larry knows _a lot_ of girls, so we're just going through all the photos right now. Picking out someone is harder than I thought."

She was about to return to her spot by the window, when Larry broke in, "Never fear! Actually, I've already got a person in mind." He whipped out a photograph…from the back of his jeans pocket.

"Whoa! Wait, how long have you had that?" Maya demanded.

"For a few days, actually." The other rubbed his neck guiltily. "I've been asking my exes for names, and Elise heard about it through a friend of a friend of that other model I asked…" Trailing off, Larry tried to connect the dots in his mind. He got as far as three degrees of separation before giving up. "She'd always wanted to date a lawyer, so she came to see if I could set her up with Edgeworth."

"Wait… then what did we go through all these photos for?"

"Well, when else am I going to get the opportunity to look through pictures of cute chicks and find my next girlfriend?"

Maya resisted the urge to smack her face repeatedly into her palm.

_Does he even have Edgeworth on his mind at all?_

"Well, everything's set then," she said out loud for the benefit of her cousin. "We've picked out the place, the clothes, and — " A devilish smirk spread across her lips, like the spirit medium that got the hamburger joint. She leaned over and pulled out a small, metal gadget attached to a thin wire from Nick's evidence bag. "I've got this set up."

Pearl stared questioningly at the object. "What is it?"

"It's a listening device from Detective Gumshoe. I planted it in the booth that we reserved for Mr. Edgeworth and his date. Just so, you know, we can hear all the interesting tidbits." Maya winked mischievously.

"But, isn't that wrong?" Her cousin, ever the moralist, asked anxiously.

"Of course not!" Larry laughed, clapping Pearl on the back. His rather over-the-top affection earned a surprised cry and a dirty look from Maya. "It's all for Edgey's sake. If anything goes wrong, we'll all jump in to the rescue. Isn't that right, Pearly?" he asked, leaning down to smile at the little girl.

Pearl took a step back from the crazy, loudmouthed man. "Oh… I guess." She paused, then made up her mind. "Um, in that case, may I come along too?" she asked hesitantly. "So I can help."

"Sure thing, Pearly." Maya clapped her hands together. "Now then, let's go prepare ourselves for tonight!"

--o--

The Viridian was glitzy, glamorous, and chock full of young couples linked arm in arm, whispering over vanilla-scented candles or laughing secretively to one another as they gazed out the wide, jalousie windows. Modern art decorated the walls, which were painted in varying tones of the restaurant's namesake color – a fitting choice, for the theme this month was water. Water bubbles, waterfalls, water fountains sculpted out of marble and bronze. At the center of the room stood a three-point display of crystalline mermaids that bore a plaque indicating their grateful donation from one Dee Vasquez of Global Studios.

Of course, just because the theme was water did not mean that the guests drank like fish here. On the contrary, The Viridian was known for its fine selection of quality brandy, of which Edgeworth was currently perusing.

"Is everything all right, Sir?" the waitress asked, as she set the metal tray down on the tabletop. She was new and impressionable, and the sight of the handsome young prosecutor all alone by himself made her heart flutter with adulation.

"Yes, thank you." Smoothly, Edgeworth folded the menu and took his glass from the tray.

"If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Of course." He smiled, goblet in hand, and waved her off politely. The girl blushed in surprise – she'd never thought anyone could have such beautiful eyes! – then remembered her place and swept up the tray, curtsying before scuttling off into the kitchen to tell all her waitress friends about her passionate interlude that night.

Edgeworth managed to keep the relaxed front up, despite slowly snapping inside.

_I can't hold on that much longer. Why…why am I here again?_

He fought the urge to just walk out at that moment, taking a sip of his cognac instead. The cravat at his neck was starting to tickle; he'd insisted on it despite Larry's protests, in return for the rose corsage Maya had been adamant on pinning to his red jacket. A gratuitous accessory, it was…tacky, in a way, and did little to ease his pollen allergies. Nevertheless, she and Pearl had pressed it on him because "it's what gentlemen wear in romantic movies!"

A short pause, and then a careful glance at his watch revealed that another minute had passed.

_Already five minutes late. This is ridiculous._

Edgeworth resisted the impulse to tap his index finger impatiently against his arm. He still couldn't believe the depths of intoxication or…or foolishness that had led him to agree to such an absurd venture. A blind date with a woman of their choice? Of Larry's choice? That was about as brilliant as walking into trial late with no evidence, no witnesses, and three marks against him already from the Judge. (Which Wright often did and got away with anyway, much to his chagrin).

Of course, it was true that his childhood friend had unwittingly stumbled onto a certain…private matter of his, one which he had stupidly admitted to that night after the trial, thanks to the ensuing atmosphere of the celebration. Perhaps this was punishment, then, for rash statements better left unsaid.

Taking a final sip of his drink, Edgeworth set the glass down resolutely (Half-empty already? Since when did he become an alcoholic?)

_That's it. I've had it. Larry can deal with this on his own. I'm out._

He pushed himself up from his seat, about to signal for the check and engage in a strategic retreat (the chorus of "Oh, no!" from the table two down drawing an irritated glance), when a voice interrupted him.

"That red rose…are you, perhaps, Mr. Miles Edgeworth?"

Edgeworth turned towards the origin of the question, eyes lighting on a tall, slender woman in her early twenties, honey blonde hair falling in waves around her darkly beautiful, delicate face. She was clad in an opulent dress decorated with green sequins, lace trim, and a rather…revealing halter top that was held together by nothing more than a brass ring. A matching corsage of red roses wrapped around her wrist. With a sinking feeling, Edgeworth realized that his escape was ruined.

"Ms. Elise Campbell, I presume?" He feigned a delighted smile and bowed.

The cries from the eavesdropping table had turned to hushed cheers, as echoes of "Thank God!" and "She's so pretty!" bounced back to his ears. Edgeworth did his best to put them out of his mind.

"Oh my gosh, wow!" Elise fairly gushed her delight. "Sorry, but I thought you'd be, like, a little older. Being a lawyer and all." Giggling, she twirled her handbag – Chanel, with her name printed in flowing script on the side – and extended a hand in greeting. "I'm literally at a loss for words, Mr. Edgeworth. Nice to meet you!"

"No, the pleasure is all mi — "

"I'm so sorry I'm late, Edgey," she cut him off with barely a pause. The proffered hand was clasped like a rare jewel, or perhaps a precious poodle in the starlet's grip. "Oh, I hope you don't mind me calling you Edgey. I heard Larry call you that, so I figured, you know, what a cute nickname!" She giggled again, waving teasingly at his cravat. "I really don't like formalities. You can just call me Lise as well, I'm totally fine with that."

"Yes, I — " Edgeworth tried again to slip a word in edgewise.

"Now where was I again?" Elise tapped her cheek thoughtfully with one manicured finger, settling legs crossed in a seat at the table. She didn't even seem to notice his attempts at conversation. "Oh, right…"

_And she calls this a loss for words?_

Edgeworth tried his best to look unperturbed, as he sat down once more in the chair opposite her.

"…my fashion advisor, it's _completely_ his fault. I'm never late for anything, never!" Pouting her rosy red lips, Elise continued on a mile a minute. "It's a cardinal rule in modeling; ten minutes and you can just _toss_ that cat straight off the catwalk." Her wrist flicked dismissively, bracelet jangling on her long, white arm. The menu stood untouched in front of her.

"But this evening, when I consulted Pierre – that's my advisor's name, by the way, he's so highbrow French you'd think he was _born_ on the Eiffel Tower – he was all, 'Oh yes, darling, believe me, mauve _is_ the new green.' Well, you know how green was the new black, right?" she asked, and Edgeworth opened his mouth in a mistaken attempt to agree. "So I'm like, of course, I totally believe you, Pierre dear. And I mean, it's _Pierre_, why shouldn't I trust him? So then I picked out this gorgeous little cocktail dress, Versace – it's _very_ lovely – for the charity dinner next week. It has those…what do you call them, those trimmings? With the silk all around the corners?" This time, Edgeworth didn't bother trying to answer the rhetorical question.

"But anyway," Elise sighed, eyelashes fluttering sadly, "when I called my girlfriend Anna to tell her about it, she was all like, 'Elise, didn't you know? Mauve is so yesterday. Now, lavender is the new green!' You can imagine my shock, couldn't you, Edgey, dear?" she asked with big, liquid eyes. "Unbelievable that Pierre would do that to me. Isn't it just _awful_?"

A long, long pause followed, accompanied by a dramatic breast heave for sympathy. Edgeworth tried not to stare.

"My condolences — " Edgeworth offered haltingly.

He might as well not have even bothered.

"You know, now that I think about it, this wasn't the first time either." Token gesture of understanding received, Elise continued on her light speed, one-sided conversation. "God, I should fire him. I should." She pursed her lips, torn. "But oh, he's such a lovely man. Always brings those little, um, cocktail umbrellas to the club? The kind with the toothpick and the ancient Chinese on the folds?" Cupped, her hand moved up and down to indicate the length of said toothpick with…graphic results. Edgeworth felt the color rise in his cheeks at the imagery. "He has his own line of them, says he's gonna sell it from here all the way to, well, like China!" Giggling, Elise waved a hand at him and finally stopped to take a sip of his cognac. "But, still! That one time, when I got invited to the Oscars…"

Having failed in his first escape, Edgeworth now switched to plan B – mental retreat from the untold horrors of mindless babbling, by envisioning his office and all the lovely piles of paperwork stacked on his desk for the morrow. Ah yes, even misdemeanor reports looked like fascinating mysteries next to this drivel, he thought. The prosecutor's office had given him a week-long holiday after the DL-6 trial, ostensibly to allow him to "recover" from the shock…although Edgeworth was not fooled into believing the vacation was optional. The top brass were no doubt discussing his future at the moment, panicked as they were after their star prosecutor had been revealed as a murderer. Skye would no doubt handle the case – she had the backbone, if not the experience – but even so, it was hard imagining anyone facing up von Karma in court when…

Mind wandering off, Edgeworth graced the conversation with only an occasional nod or "Yes, I see" to demonstrate his rapt attention in his date's life story.

" — so that's how Claudia and I convinced Vogue that autumn '12 will _totally_ be about pleats. Pleats, can you believe it?" Tittering, Elise stopped in her hundred mile ramble to give him a curious look. Silence. Edgeworth snapped out of his reverie, trying desperately to catch the last trails of the conversation, as he vaguely recalled something about pleats.

_Was that a clothing article? Had she actually expected me to follow the history of fashion?_

He was about to open his mouth to declare the saintly nature of pleats (Larry's advice: "When in doubt, just agree, man! Chicks dig that"), when Elise actually asked him a non-rhetorical question.

"So…you're a lawyer, right? That's what Larry told me."

"Yes." Edgeworth shifted uncomfortably. The sudden scrutiny was stifling. "A prosecuting attorney."

"And you deal with, umm…law stuff, right?"

"Yes…"

"You know, I have a lawyer too," Elise said perkily.

"Really?" Edgeworth attempted to look interested.

"Yeah, he waves around those papers and objects to stuff all the time."

_…I think that's your manager._

An awkward silence followed again. Edgeworth reached for his drink. Elise fiddled with her menu. The waitress came by once more, but was met with only a murmur of annoyance and a flick of the wrist, as the model barely even looked at her.

"So, you like, help people fight crime and stuff?" Elise asked, after finally putting in her order for a single, low-calorie salad from the appetizer section. Edgeworth declined any food.

"That's one way to put it."

"Oh, it's like one of those shows!" Beaming, she clapped her hands together.

Edgeworth blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Hee hee, you think I don't know anything, do you? But I watch them all the time!" She seemed about ready to rev up into another mile-a-minute conversation with herself. "You know, the ones where the judge would bang that wooden thing and go, 'You owe this guy $1,000 for sleeping with his wife!' Something like that, right?"

"Ms. Campbell," Edgeworth began crossly, shocked at how his vocation was being tarnished, "I don't think you can compare — "

"Edgey, Edgey, Edgey." Elise wagged a finger at him reproachfully. "Didn't I tell you to call me Lise? See, I was wondering why I've never seen you on TV before." Her eyebrows drew together. "I do watch those shows every day. And you know, I think I've figured out why." She looked away. "No offense, Edgey dear, but…"

Suddenly, a wave of distress overtook Elise, as she clenched her fists and fixed him with a deep, soul-rending stare. "Oh! This is awful, I can't take it anymore!" She pointed a finger accusingly at his suit. "H–How could you wear that with a straight face?"

Like a sword had pierced his heart, Edgeworth nearly fell backward at the cruelty of those words.

"Ex…cuse me?" he managed to sputter out, utterly shocked.

"It's a crime, I tell you! Oh, darling…why does it have to happen to someone so handsome?" Elise's eyes became dark and liquid, like she was addressing a poor puppy dog. "_That_ looks like it came from five centuries ago."  
Edgeworth glanced down at his clothing, feeling self-conscious.

"…That?"

"Everything!" Elise yelled, throwing her hands up. "The frills, the colors, the – "

"I'll have you know that this suit is authentic Armani imported from Italy," Edgeworth snapped in indignation. It was the first time he had cut her off this evening, and the feeling was oddly satisfying. There was only so much a man could stand.

But Elise merely shook her head. "Trust me, Edgey. I know a disaster when I see one, and this one's staring at me straight in the face." She thought to herself for a bit. "Oh, I tend to block them from my memory. That's probably why I couldn't remember you."

…Few things could have hurt Edgeworth worse.

Cross-examinations, he could rebuke. Inquiry committees, he could weather. But Edgeworth balked at the personal attack on his pride – his custom-tailored red jackets, the signature outfit that had accompanied him through the courtroom from the first days of his career. Irritation knotted his brow, as he glanced to one side…and caught a wave from a suspiciously familiar purple-robed hand two tables down. Maya mouthed for him to go with the flow.

Swallowing his venom, Edgeworth replied stiffly, "In that case, I must apologize for my unfortunate appearance." The lie wounded him as much as any penalty in court would. _At least this is an opportunity to escape from this disastrous mess._ Standing up, he offered an icy hand to the other woman. "It's been a wonderful evening, and I'm terribly sorry that I have disappointed you. Perhaps it's time I — "

"Listen, Edgey." Elise took his hand and stood up as well, but with an entirely different plan on her mind. "I know a little place just a few blocks from here. Lovely boutique, very upscale. I'll make you all better, trust me."

"Wait, I — "

But she was already waving for the bill. His retreat foiled, Edgeworth could only watch helplessly as Elise signed off on the tab and then proceeded to drag him out the restaurant, toward her limousine, which was waiting patiently at the sidewalk. No escape now. Any hope of extricating himself without a scene was dashed at the sight of the dark-glassed bodyguard by the door – who spared him a less than pleasant glance as, across the street, Larry gave the thumbs up sign.

This was going to be a long night…

--o--

The boutique lay just a few street corners down from The Viridian, no doubt banking on romantic couples and rich clientele from the restaurant to draw in business. Its crystal and glass windows – tinted a fashionable rose – displayed mute mannequins in various stages of dress (or undress, depending on how one viewed it), flaunting the latest fashions lines. Hermes, Valentino, Dolce and Gabbana…they were all here, all just a credit card away from any shapely body that might walk in with money-burning purposes on her mind.

Edgeworth squinted disturbingly at a sheer, skin-tight purple top lined with a fur collar and cut off halfway up the chest. He had trouble telling which gender said article was for.

"Ms. Elise, this way," the employee – a young man in his twenties – fairly bowed, directing them to a private corner of the boutique. A few customers turned and stared as well, no doubt awed by the appearance of such a celebrity in their midst.

Elise held her head up high, pausing deliberately by her namesake collection near the center of the store to drive the point home further. Edgeworth glanced at it, then quickly looked away. The rather…garishly colorful set of pencil thin dresses (in every possible tone of pink and green) made him wince, and the effect was compounded by the blazing neon cursive spelling out "Campbell" above the rack, arranged so that the first letter traced the very bottom of Ms. Campbell's…back in the titular photograph of the fashion line.

Edgeworth hurried to catch up with their guide, who led them into a lavishly decorated lounge at the back – one whose privilege clearly was reserved for the top patrons.

"I hope you enjoy your stay." He bowed again. "If there's anything we can do, the bell, as you know, is just a step away." Before Edgeworth could say a word (such as where the fire escape might be and if compensation existed for retina burn by way of ungodly color fetish), the man was gone.

Resignation set in deep and embittering.

He walked over to a collection of casual suits, sifting distractedly through them as he kept an eye out for Elise. For the time being, she was quiet, sufficiently absorbed in comparing different brands of gaudy swimwear to start in on another fashion tirade. Edgeworth shook his head. Well, he supposed he would just have to make the best of the situation. Ducking out now simply wasn't an option. Although the boutique was a bit over-the-top in its tastes (as the half-naked model on the wall could attest), it did offer several high-end professional styles that were to his liking. In particular, this bone white Yamamoto vest had a certain spare elegance to it…

"Look at this, Edgey!" Elise interrupted his browsing with a shirt she produced gleefully off the rack. "What do you think?"

Edgeworth cringed at the sight. "Isn't that... pink?"

"Edgey dear, that's why I told you to leave this to me." Elise rolled her eyes. "It's not pink, obviously. Peach, honey, _peach_." She emphasized it by holding the shirt up to Edgeworth's chest, squinting seriously as she appraised the merits of the match.

"I can tell these kinds of things, you know. The last boyfriend I dated? _Totally_ goldenrod," she waved flirtatiously, picking up a pair of pants. "I had a theme going for him – goldenrod shirt, goldenrod slacks, and of course goldenrod ties. I think I even had a matching goldenrod gown to wear to dinner with him once." She tapped her cheek thoughtfully, then shrugged. "It's not exactly my color, but still such a nice theme! I love having everything go perfectly together in a theme. Pierre doesn't agree, of course, but — Well, that's Pierre for you." She laughed. "I wonder sometimes what I'd do with him if he didn't bring all those lovely little umbrellas. Oh yes, Edgey, my point is I think you're totally a peachy person."

By now, her arms were filled with every possible article of clothing resembling a light orange shade.

Edgeworth sighed. "Lise, to be honest, this isn't exactly my style…" He tried to back away from the overly enthusiastic clothes fitting, each more outrageous than the next.

"And that's what I keep telling you!" Elise ignored his protests. "You've really got to catch up with the times, you know." Smiling, she deposited the finished outfit – complete with visor and pink-tinted sunglasses – into his arms. "I've got all the accessories picked out too; nothing can go wrong with this set. Just try it," her voice rocked low and seductive. "Please?"

…Resignedly, Edgeworth took the garments.

_I suppose I can humor her just once and be done with this._

He entered the changing room, and a few minutes later, a stifled groan came from his lips. Reluctantly, Edgeworth stepped out into the light – the bright modeling spotlight – and tried his best not to look like a reject from the Cirque du Soleil tour. He succeeded, if only because even a circus clown wouldn't wear pants as tight and…form-fitting as the striped, peach slacks currently clinging to his waist. The matching dress shirt (if one could call it that) – open neck, with some sort of…_tiger stripes_ on the collar – tapered down into a belt that felt like it had been stripped straight off the back of an alligator. His visor slid down heavily, making him wonder what the point of the tinted sunglasses was anyway.

_I swear, Chief of Police Gant has an identical pair of these somewhere._

To any other person, the sour look on Edgeworth's face might have been discouraging, but Elise merely clapped her hands delightedly. "My, that's just how I'd imagined it! Only…" She leaned in and wrapped a long, silk scarf embroidered with curly script around his neck. "One final touch."

If there was any doubt in his mind that things couldn't get worse, they were now dashed.

"Perfect!" Smiling, she stepped back. "What do you think, Edgey?"

"Erm…"

"Have you looked in the mirror yet?"

"Believe me, Lise, I have," Edgeworth replied between gritted teeth.

"Are you sure?" Elise blinked questioningly, and proceeded to pull up the full length mirror anyway. "Here, give it a little spin, would you?"

"I don't know about that." Miles tried his best to avert his eyes.

"You know, the other guy I used to date… Gerald. Gerald was his name, I believe." Elise nodded to herself. "He doesn't just spin. He'd have all these cute little poses, where he'd lean back a bit like this, have his arms up…" She tossed her head to demonstrate. "Sometimes he'd give a little squeal, you know, when he's happy. Of course, he's _always_ happy about it because I picked out everything. Oh, he was so adorable." Elise brought her hand up to her lips, giggling. "Gee, I can't remember why we broke up."

_On the contrary, I have a pretty good idea._

"Now where was I? Oh yes, don't be shy! Here." Straightening, she got behind Edgeworth and turned him around again to face the mirror. "Take a good look at yourself, Edgey! Now tell me what you think," she tittered in his ear, breast heaving, arms about his waist.

Edgeworth merely grimaced. "Really, Lise, I don't think this is working out," he managed to reply. In fact, none of this was working out. What should have been a simple dinner date had somehow spiraled into his worst nightmare ever, compounded by the fact that this woman's sense of style apparently derived from a mutilated Picasso painting.

_At least Larry and Maya can't see this…this utter humiliation._

"Oh, well then," Elise shrugged, "let's try the next one."

Edgeworth blinked.

"…There's more?"

The other only grinned and handed him another set of outfits. "Who do you think I am, Edgey? I always have a backup plan. Like that one time — "

"Yes, I think I'll definitely try this," Edgeworth interrupted hurriedly, ducking into the dressing room. For all the embarrassment this was causing him…anything was still preferable to Elise's interminable monologue.

A minute later, he regretted his words.

"Oh, my!" Grinning seductively at the sight, Elise approached him with a sultry smile. "This certainly is very… pleasing to the eye, to say the least." She cast a slow gaze over the sheer mesh shirt, the leather jacket, the black rawhide pants that fit so snugly around her date's cute tush – with enhancing effects in front as well. A red-nailed finger came up to run along the other's bare chest, sending a shiver through Edgeworth's spine. "I'm quite impressed."

Miles edged slowly away. "Lise…you do remember that I am a lawyer, right?" He tried for diplomacy. "I have to represent myself respectably."

"Hmm?" Elise blinked, completely lost. "I don't see anything wrong."

_She honestly thinks I can go to court in this outfit? I wouldn't even step inside the detention center!_

"We're just gonna have to test this outfit out now, won't we?" Skipping backward, she settled into one of the plush lounge couches and leaned back, smirking at the view. "How about you walk a little?"

"I think I've walked enough in this…"

"No, not just regular walking." Elise shook her head. "You know, like a model on a catwalk." She demonstrated with two fingers looping lightly in the air. One kicked, ending in a split leg pose.

"…I really, really don't know about that." Edgeworth coughed, red-faced.

"Aww, come on. Just a little, please? I used to do it all the time, you know. Once I had this guy, Rob — "

"I'll do it!" Awkwardly, Edgeworth began walking around the dressing area, self-consciousness rocketing to new levels every time he landed a step and the pants shifted low down his waist. The belt loop chafed much too tightly; the boots pushed him up to an unnatural swagger, as if he were some sort of – sort of _dog_ staking its claim to a territory. He could barely make it to the other side of the lounge without wanting to grab a robe, a towel, anything to cover this mortification up.

"Is...Is that enough?" Edgeworth asked rigidly.

"Hmm, I can't tell anything yet. Why don't you turn around?"

Reluctantly, Edgeworth did, feeling the leather bunch up embarrassingly around his…thighs.

"Nice, nice. Very nice." Elise beamed, pleased with herself. "Now bend forward just a little…"

_That's it. I'm going to have to end this right now._

"Look, perhaps it's time to call it a da — "

"Let's try something else now," Elise interrupted him, turning with two new disasters in her hands. "Which one's next? The salmon one or this magenta outfit?"

_Ugh! She's…even more persistent than Wright during cross-examination!_

"I'd go for the salmon myself," Elise continued. "The colors even match your — "

Edgeworth raised his voice. "I think I'm done, Lise." He frowned pointedly.

Elise pouted. "Ehhhh? But we're not even at the best part yet!" She grabbed his hand. "After this, there's still the boxers!"

"Boxers…" Edgeworth blanched, his jaw nearly dropping to the ground. "Wh—WHAT?"

"Oh! Tee hee, of course." Elise giggled naughtily. "You're a briefs person, aren't you?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Gavel and a Hard Place  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing:** OFC x Edgeworth, Wright x Edgeworth (eventually)  
**Word Count:** 10,251  
**Description:** The matchmaking continues with yours truly, Maya's blind date selection. If Edgeworth thought Larry's taste in women was bad, he'd better get ready for a full-on assault this time. Meanwhile, Pearl discovers an interesting mystery at the courthouse library…  
**Author's Note:** Haha, more crack! This date was a really fun riff of the old Mary Sue stereotypes; I definitely turned to Regina Berry for inspiration. Also building up for the main plotline at the very end, which we will get to shortly in the next chapter.

Maya hummed softly as she scrubbed the law office's toilet, bangs swishing from side to side with each stroke of the brush. The corner alcove was a mess; liquid soap and detergent were stashed beside old law reviews and newspapers, corners soiled with water stains from the last time the plumbing backed up. A few boxes lay eviscerated from the back closet, part of her ongoing endeavor to sort the numerous evidence files – from scrapbooks and bottle caps to a photo of Mr. Monkey from the Steel Samurai case – cluttering up the foyer. So far, she'd yet to finish with the toilet bowl.

Maya poked her head out of the bathroom at a particularly loud slurp. "When are you going to help me, Nick?"

"I have to get to the courtroom in 45 minutes, I don't have the time for that now!" Phoenix yelled in between a mouthful of watery ramen (the pot wouldn't boil in time, so he'd just dumped some leftover beef broth into the mix), hands flipping rapidly through an autopsy report by his side. Droplets of shrimp-flavored soup splattered onto his navy suit.

"That's what you get for being so disorganized." Maya shook her head in exasperation. "This mess is your fault too! And then it's up to me to clean it all up..." She looked forlornly at the toilet bowl, now scoured a pristine white.

_If you have such a problem with it, don't do it then! Who asked you, anyways?_

Shaking his head irritably, Phoenix said, "How about you leave this room alone and go play with Larry and Pearl?" He had seen enough of Maya's "organizing" for a day. Thank God his client could only meet him at the detention center. "What's keeping you guys busy anyways? I haven't seen you for almost a week."

Indeed, Mia's younger sister and his self-declared partner in law had been strangely absent these past few days, despite the hot case he'd landed. Normally, Maya would be jumping all over him to go investigate the crime scene, drag that evidence bag around, pester Gumshoe until he spilled the beans, but...lately, not even a meeting with the client (a 23-yr-old rock star whose hairstyle could only be described as florid) would catch her attention.

Maya only grinned as she walked up to his desk. "That's because the plan's going so well!" She paused at the skeptical look that earned her, and reconsidered. "Ah...well, Plan A kinda bombed, but there's no way Plan B will fail!"

"Plan A..." Phoenix dredged his memory for any references to planning that did not involve curses at his imminent court date. "Oh, you were serious about that whole 'find love for Edgeworth' thing?"

"Duh!" Maya rolled her eyes. "And come on, why aren't you helping us with it anyways? He's your friend!"

"I'm thinking it could be because I've actually got this thing called work to do, not an unemployed freeloader with too much free time on their hands."

"Aww," Maya pouted, "why'd you have to be so cruel to Larry?"

_...That went right over her head._

"So, Edgeworth really agreed to go through with this whole matchmaking thing?"

"Yeah." The other nodded. "He went on one date already. Although...it's too bad it didn't go so well," she admitted reluctantly. Maya suddenly looked far too interested in a speck of dust on the floor. "Ms. Elise was a pretty model too. I thought they made a good match."

"He...He wasn't interested in her?" Phoenix asked cautiously. A thin line furrowed his brow.

"I don't know." Maya shrugged helplessly. "I think she took him to her private place, and then the next day he didn't seem too happy."

It was a good thing that Phoenix had swallowed the last of his ramen, because otherwise he might have choked. "P—Private place?" he sputtered, cheeks reddening. "What do you mean?!"

"Yeah. Larry said it's a boutique she has a connection with. Ms. Elise gave him a makeover, but Mr. Edgeworth ran away from the before we could see it." Tapping her temple, Maya pondered the reasons for such a hasty exit.

"Oh..."

Phoenix breathed a quiet sigh of relief, before snickering at the ludicrous image. Edgeworth in Dolce and Gabbana garb...now that was a thought to give anyone nightmares. He regretted not coming along for the ride.

"You should see the way he assaulted Larry the next day," Maya continued, plopping down on the sofa. "Poor Larry was really crying..."

--o--

"Ahhh, don't hurt me, please!" Larry begged, tears sparkling down the sides of his face. He cowered behind the samurai dog stand with the sign pulled over his head. "All I wanted was for you to be happy, Edgey! Honest!"

"How many times do I need to tell you that this whole charade is nothing but an embarrassment for me? Do you have any idea what I went through last night?!" Edgeworth demanded furiously. He stood in towered in front of register, one hand slammed on the tabletop, his trademark courtroom glare fixed on the culprit currently hiding underneath.

"I really thought you were having fun," the other whimpered.

"Enough of this. If you want someone to play around with, Wright looks awfully free. I have more important things to do than humor fools." With a last flick of his arm, he turned and marched off toward the exit.

"Waaaaait!" In an almost superhuman feat of strength, Larry leaped forward, rocketing across the table to cling onto Edgeworth's sleeve.

Miles tried to shake him off in disgust. "Larry...How old are you? Stop this!" he barked, embarrassed.

"You're not the kind of guy to leave his best friend in a time of need, are you?" the other whined, turning on the waterworks again. "It's your fault I'm working here on a Saturday!"

"What now?" Edgeworth sighed.

"It's Lisey. She said it's your fault that you tried on all those clothes. She worked so hard to come up with those sets for you that she's upset no one would wear them. So...she made me buy them all." Abruptly, Larry gnashed his teeth in a temper tantrum. "And she looked really depressed because of that, so I had to buy her a few dress too! I'm so broke, man," he whined at ear-splitting frequencies.

"All of that sounds like it's your own fault." Miles tapped his arm impatiently.

"But if you didn't hurt my Lisey like that, she wouldn't have been upset! You should have at least bought the sunglasses." He glowered at his friend sulkily. "Why didn't you buy them, Edgey? Why?"

"You do realize that none of those clothes would be suitable to wear in public by a sex offender, let alone a district prosecutor?"

"Aww, but Lisey thinks it looks good on me. You like this shirt? She says the color matches my rosy cheeks." From misery to glee, Larry now indeed had twin blushes and a cat-like grin on his face, as he showed off the decidedly...garish piece of clothing over his chest.

"Larry, you're wearing a bright pink shirt." Miles stated the obvious.

"Well, so are you buddy," the other pointed out.

Edgeworth looked down at his court jacket, mouth open in protest. "This is not pink, Larry, it's — " He stopped, frustrated, and shook his head. "Why am I even having this conversation?"

"You should have listened to Lisey's advice." Larry wagged a finger. "I totally agree, man. You are such a peachy person."

"Lisey..." Miles trailed off, an uncomfortable look on his face. The memories of last night flooded back like a bad case of PTSD. "Let me ask this, Larry. You and her are perhaps..."

"Yes!" His friend beamed brightly, giving the thumbs up sign. "We are so together now. I'm so into her, Edgey, it's too late for regrets," he pronounced with a fierce smile.

"Well, seems like things worked out for you in the end," Miles observed mildly and turned to go. It wasn't hard running circles around Larry – he fairly dug, stumbled, and buried himself into them on his own. "I assume you won't be needing me anymore, then."

"Waaaaaaaait!" Larry whined, launching himself at the other's sleeve cuff and nearly bowling Edgeworth over. "But we haven't found the one for you yet!" he gasped, breathless.

"Face it, Larry. It's been a disaster." Miles shook his head, grey eyes flickering. He didn't try to brush his friend off this time.

"But...But..." Desperately, Larry glanced back at the samurai dog booth for support. "Come on, Maya! Why aren't you helping me at all?"

"Wait, Pearly and I are still busy." Brow furrowing, Maya brought a photo up to the light. "Hmm...Pearls, how about her?" she asked her cousin.

"Mystic Maya, don't you think she's a bit too old for Mr. Eh-ji-worth?" Pearl asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I thought so too." She tossed it aside. "Next."

"It's useless no matter what." Miles turned, addressing all three of them crossly. He was tired of this foolishness, and all the effort squandered on his behalf. "Stop now before you waste anymore of your time."

"You keep saying that, but you never know right? How do you know I won't find a good person for you?" Maya gave him a sincere, questioning smile.

"Don't underestimate Mystic Maya. I know she can do it!" Pushing up her lavender sleeve, Pearl stared intensely into Edgeworth's eyes. "You give up way too easily on everything, Mr. Eh-ji-worth! Even about your special person too!"

For a second, Miles looked stricken off guard.

"Pearly..." Maya trailed off in the ensuing silence. She glanced around at the uncomfortable faces, gazes suddenly averted aside. "I think you went too far with that one."

"Ah...!" Pearl gasped, one hand clapped to her mouth. "Did I really?" She looked down in dejection, hair bobbing sadly.

Miles scowled. "Hmph! What are you talking about?" He turned away, one hand clutched over his arm, as his eyes narrowed. "There was never a special someone."

"Hey, don't backtrack now," Larry piped up. "We heard it, didn't we, Maya? Edgey said he got a girl on his mind."

"I never said anything about a girl, did I? You just misunderstood." Rigidly, he shook Larry off, and when Edgeworth looked up again, his composure was once more cool and impeccable. The other flinched at his icy gaze. "Ridiculous," Miles muttered, walking away, "I can't believe I played along this far."

A low breeze picked up across the deserted lake, chill fingertips swirling dead tree leaves across the wooden benches. Dirt scuffled loudly. No one looked up. No one said a word. The loose tails of a lone red jacket fluttered in the wind like an abandoned kite, its owner forever gone, beyond the reach of plea or reason.

And then –

"HOLD IT!"

A dramatic voice echoed throughout the park.

Miles turned, a bored expression on his face. Larry really didn't know when to give up on anything.

"No matter if there's a girl or not – " the other man yelled, face flushed, chest heaving " – and damn it Edgey, I _know_ there is one!" He pointed a finger accusingly in true Wright style. " – you still promised me three dates, didn't you?"

"Yeah! Pearly and I haven't got our turns yet!" Maya chimed in.

Edgeworth shrugged. "So what? Why should I go through with them if I know they're ultimately going to fail?"

"Mr. Eh-ji-worth..." Pearl murmured softly, on the verge of tears, "You don't think I could find someone for you?" She looked up at him with forlorn, soul-searching eyes. A sniffle began to grow in the back of her throat.

Miles blinked, flustered. "No, I didn't exactly say that — "

"I'm really no good, aren't I? I bring so much trouble to everyone. I can't spell...And now I can't even help you..." Small hiccupping breaths, followed by a truly agonizing whimper left her lips.

"No, wait — "

Pearl burst into tears, huge streams gushing full force from her eyes as she cried loudly. "Whaaaaaaa! I'm sorry! I'm so useless!" she bawled, scrubbing at her face. Her little hands were curled tight in anguish.

...Edgeworth suddenly found himself fixed by evil glares from all sides.

"No, I never said you were useless," he attempted awkwardly, eyebrow twitching in unease. He approached the little girl and reached out a hesitant hand.

Pearl sniffled. "But...But...You said I'd fail..." She looked up at him with big, liquid eyes.

"I...guess I didn't mean it." Miles swallowed hard.

"Really?"

"Really."

There was a long pause.

"But wait, I didn't mean that — " Stammering, Edgeworth realized too late that he'd just stepped into a trap.

"So you will trust me to find your true love, right?" Pearl looked up at him with sparkly eyes, already laying down the icing on the cake. She grasped his hand tightly with all the innocent force in her nine-year-old body.

Unable to look away, unable to resist, Miles could only answer a halting, "...Yes."

"And you'll trust Mystic Maya too? Please say you will, please!"

This one didn't even need an eye-glow.

"...Yes."

"Yay!" Maya cheered, clapping her hands together. "So two more dates it is, then!"

As the others celebrated, Edgeworth wondered seriously what the advantage of an indomitable prosecutor persona was when he couldn't even resist the implorations of a nine-year-old girl. Surely, the witnesses who dreaded him on the stand would laugh at him now...

Shaking his head, he stared out blankly at Gourd Lake, tinted a dark burgundy with the light of the setting sun. Perhaps he should just leap into those water and end his misery right now. That thought brought a dark chuckle to his lips – certainly, it would be a fitting finish to the torturous story that had started at this very same place but a week ago...

Absentmindedly, Miles reached inside his jacket pocket, fingering the worn, precious object nestled within the wool fabric. Today, then. It was as good a day as any to do it.

--o--

Maya tossed the last of the box's contents into the trash bin, sliding it aside to make way for a pile of old knickknacks she dug up out of Phoenix's closet. Only one more mound to go...of the most ancient stuff, no less. Dust flew as she started tackling it with fervor.

"Hee hee, so now we got two more dates out of him," Maya giggled, and threw a broken coffee mug in with the junk pile. "Pearly really saved our butts there. She's good at that."

Phoenix shook his head, smiling. "Heh, been there, done that." He took one last glance at the mess of his office – surprisingly, nothing had been damaged by his cohort's cleaning spree (though he imagined he'd be digging through the trash later) – before turning back to work. "Too bad for Edgeworth, though," he said with a thoughtful look.

"What? You don't trust me either?" Maya puffed up her cheeks angrily.

"As crazy as Larry is, he's nothing compared to you," Phoenix pointed out.

"Hmph! All you ever do is discourage us." Grabbing the nearest heavy, wooden object from the junk pile, she waved it in Nick's face. "You'll see! I've already picked someone out." She gave him a sly wink, and smirked. "Let's just say...Pearly and I will make sure the night is as fantastic as a fairy tale."

"Alright then..." By now, Phoenix was already absorbed in his report. Three days, a missing body, and some splattered toothpaste...there wasn't much evidence to go on, though he should've expected it given Mr. Delfone's memory. The only question was how he'd present the case in front of Payne, when unlike Edgeworth, he –

A small frown tugged at his lips.

"You really don't seem to care at all, do you?" Maya asked curiously after a pause. It wasn't an accusation, merely something she'd observed, but for some reason the words made Phoenix stop and turn up deliberately from his notes.

"None of this has got anything to do with me." He shrugged. "Why should I care about his love life?"

Not knowing how to respond, Maya simply gave an answering shrug and went back to sorting through the mishmash of items she'd pulled out of the closet. The ensuing silence was only broken by short taps of Phoenix's pen, an occasional cough, the sound of things clattering into either the discard bin or keep box. Nick was awfully quiet today, Maya thought...probably, this case he was on was really draining his energy. She reached down to pick up another container and suddenly noticed the wooden block she still held in her hand.

"Hey, Nick, why do you have this junk in your office?"

Phoenix gave a cursory look up, and froze.

"Hey, that's...Where'd you find that!?" he yelped in surprise, dropping both pen and paper to leap around the desk.

"In your mess, where else?" Maya examined it thoughtfully. The block sure looked old, and quite plain, but still sturdy after all these years. It's center seemed to be scarred from heavy use...as if something had been slammed against it repeatedly. Like a –

"Isn't this the thing that the Judge bangs on?" she asked quizzically. "Why do you have it, Nick? Are you trying to usurp the justice system?" Maya made a scary face at her partner in crime.

Phoenix snatched the block from her. "It's an artifact from my past, not just any regular junk." He declined to comment on the dozen other such "artifacts" currently cluttering his desk in useless pen holders, staplers, and a crooked figurine that Larry had given to him after their first trial. Instead, he shoved the wooden sound block inside the top drawer and went back to his reading.

"Another thing — " Maya began.

" I'm busy!"

" — didn't you say you had 45 minutes left? It's been 40 minutes." She glanced pointedly at the clock.

There was a long pause as each stared at the other in silence.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Phoenix fairly exploded, grabbing frantically at the reams of paper and evidence on his desk to be shoved into his backpack, which dangled off one shoulder as he dashed out of the office, chopsticks still in hand.

"Hey — ah, he's gone." Shaking her head, Maya chuckled to herself. "I was going to say I was just kidding. It's only been 15 minutes." She shoved the rest of the junk into a corner and plopped down on the couch, staring out the window thoughtfully. "Strange, he's so unfocused today. He can't even figure out the time." She wondered if there was something else on Nick's mind besides work. A girlfriend, maybe? That would explain why he was staying far away from the matchmaking business.

"Well, now that I've got this office to myself..." Maya looked around the empty room with glee, and pulled out of a list of phone numbers from her spirit medium robe. She made a beeline for the phone.

"Time to put the next part of the plan in motion!"

--o--

Edgeworth settled back into his silk-lined seat with a soft sigh, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. He slid his china plate aside to reach for another green tea cookie in the center of the table. Now this, fine confectionary, was something he could appreciate. Smiling slightly, Miles washed the thick, crumbly biscuit down with a cup of jasmine and gestured at the tea lady for a refill on his hot water. Whatever could be said of Maya and Pearl's matchmaking abilities, at least one thing was certain – they knew how to choose a restaurant properly.

The tea house was toned down, but elegant, a charming dining establishment decorated in autumn golds and reds, with traditional Meiji scrolls hanging on the walls. Thin folding screens separated each table from the next, and small paper lanterns hung from the ceiling rafters. A fragile scent of incense floated through the air; the smoke from the incense sticks swirled lazily, wreathing the wooden pillars and the sign that traced out _The Willow_ in Japanese calligraphy.

The service, the atmosphere, the tea...Edgeworth raised the porcelain cup to his lips again and murmured appreciatively at the fulgent aroma. Everything was perfect.

...Except, of course, his inane reason for being here.

_Five minutes late yet again. This is becoming a rather disturbing pattern._

He flicked his wrist, ruffled fabric of his sleeve sliding back across his watch. Well, there was little he could do at this point. Despite his usual precision about meetings, Edgeworth found that he didn't mind his date's tardiness in this respect. In fact, he welcomed it. The reprieve from pointless conversation, a chance to relax in a private setting, his favorite drink laid out before him...he would feign disappointment, of course, when Maya and Pearl slipped out, heads hanging apologetically, but in truth Miles could not think of a better way to spend the night than alone at this restaurant.

_Well, some companionship might be agreeable, provided it didn't involve work or romantic escapades. No one from the D.A.'s office, certainly. Perhaps if Wright wasn't involved in that case..._

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a...unique individual poised in the corner, staring at him. Staring at him with unnaturally large, blue eyes. Edgeworth frowned, wondering if he had somehow offended a patron with his mannerisms. There were no other guests around who seemed to take notice of his presence. Shrugging, he turned back to his tea...only to hear an uncomfortable cough a moment later from the same young girl. Still staring at him. Intently.

This was starting to become a rather bothersome situation.

Edgeworth swiveled his gaze aside, trying to make out the details of his newly found stalker without actually meeting her gaze. It was hardly difficult. The girl, who could not possibly be older than 16, looked as if her costume had been lifted straight from one of those Steel Samurai cosplay magazines Maya was always whining at Wright about, complete with frilly magenta sashes. (What was with that color among women these days?) She had long, golden curls down to her waist, a flowing silk dress, ribbons and lace and some sort of violet bow knotted around her back and – was that a tiara perched atop her head?! Miles tried not to stare at the bizarre sight. Yes, definitely a tiara. There were sapphire rhinestones arranged in a blinding configuration of sparkles around the center.

Detachedly, he realized he was staring just as hard at his...admirer, for lack of a better word...as she was at him.

Edgeworth turned away quickly, feeling the color rise in his cheeks.

_She must be a foreigner to the area. My clothes would probably look strange too if I were in her country._

Nevertheless, his stray glance caught the other's attention – and the girl immediately turned her gleaming blue eyes another Mega-Watt up in bedazzlement, lashes batting at him shyly. There was an unnervingly shimmery, bubbly atmosphere that seemed to follow her around...an aura that trailed almost like - well, like purple prose out of a bad romance movie. And was that _glitter_ sparkling in her footsteps? Miles did a double-take. Yes, definitely. The cheap Crayola craft store kind. He buried his nose further in his teacup, trying his best to ignore the hesitant approach of what could only be another bad dream in his short, but already excruciatingly painful, blind date career.

"Excuse me. I'm...a bit lost." The voice that greeted him was soft, sweet, and definitely not older than 14.

Miles stared up at her blankly.

"Miss, you must be looking for the front desk."

"No, I—I need your help!" Suddenly, the girl grasped the table edge, eyes boring into him with tear-sparkling intensity. "Please! I am but a little lost dove in this dark and lonely world..." She looked off to her side in anguish, ribbons fluttering dramatically.

Edgeworth winced. "I suppose I could show you where the front desk is," he offered with reluctance, mood now ruined by his most unwelcome visitor. He rose from his seat and extended a hand courteously, only to find himself staggering backward in surprise as the girl let out a loud, theatrical gasp...and collapsed, frills flying, into his arms.

There was an awkward silence punctuated by several shocked whispers ("Oh, what did that man do to the poor girl?") from the surrounding tables.

"My Prince..." his newly discovered problem declared breathily, "I have found you!"

"Huh?" Miles blinked, confused.

"The stars of destiny have aligned, and we are together once more! My Prince... My One True Love!" Azure orbs glittered up at him, hopeful and innocent, as she tossed her golden curls in a shower of light that radiated like a thousand stars in his embrace. They bounced against his shoulder, tickling his cheek as she linked an arm close around his neck. Far...too close.

The murmurs of disbelief from the patrons had now been joined by several none-to-kindly glances in his direction.

"But he seemed so polite and good looking..."

"Yeah, all the worst ones are."

"How could a man like him – and in such a place!"

Edgeworth clutched his forehead, suppressing the urge to simply bolt. "I'm sure there's been a mistake somewhere." He extricated himself from what was fast becoming an awkward...position, and set the girl down on the floor as quickly as he could. "I'm going to take you to the maître d', okay? Your parents can pick you up from there."

"No!" She yelled, defiant. "This isn't a mistake!" The starry eyes came back, coupled with a hand clasp to her face that resembled suspiciously a certain spirit medium of his acquaintance's...rapt expression. "We are destined to be together, my Prince, the cupids have told me. From the moment our eyes met...I knew..." Voice trembling, she leaned in to the shell of his ear. "That you were the one."

By now, Miles was fairly sure that his face was red with embarrassment – and not simply from the love confession. "You don't mean...Maya and Pearl sent you here?" he hazarded a guess.

"Ah, if you mean those angels of love, then yes."

"Ugh! I...I see..." Edgeworth could barely restrain himself from exploding in rage.

"After all this time...Finally, we are reunited!" She threw herself once more into his arms, dress flouncing all the way up to her knees, as her small bosom heaved quite firmly against his chest. "Ah, what a joyous day!"

Mortified, Miles tried to wriggle free of her grasp. "Miss, this is not good — " He stopped, noticing all the rather unfriendly eyes around him. The tea lady, who had just minutes ago delivered his cookies with a smile, was now frowning at him severely as she pushed a cart down the central walkway...which he was now blocking. With a concerted effort, Edgeworth shoved the girl-turned-vise-like-limpet off his arm and said in his most well-mannered voice, "Look, perhaps...we should talk about this first. Let's get back to our seats, shall we?" He set her firmly down on the ground and took a step back before she could attempt to jump him again.

"My, you are so strong! You really must be my knight." Not missing a beat, his stalker-admirer fluttered her eyelashes at him dreamily. "Ah, but when the time comes, you will be gentle with me, won't you? I am but a delicate flower." She giggled sweetly and turned a coy gaze on Edgeworth, cheeks flushing brilliantly. "If you know what I mean."

_W-Wait, 13-yr-old girls aren't supposed to...!_

But it was too late for the gasps and the gossiping. Miles hissed between gritted teeth, "I beg you, sit in the chair." He slammed the table in true courtroom style for emphasis.

As his...guest finally relented and settled herself (ribbons and frills all a flurry) into a seat, Edgeworth wiped the accumulated sweat off his forehead. He brought the teacup to his lips, hoping to calm his nerves with some jasmine, only to find its contents cold. Another sharp slam.

"All right. Miss, who are you?"

The curly-haired girl merely giggled again. "Oh, it's time for the introductions!" She drew herself up regally, hands folded on the tabletop, and recited in an obviously well-rehearsed line, "I am called Sarah-Angelica Marie Elizabeth Casablanca Stardust VII."

...Miles refrained from banging his head against the wall.

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe that is your real name."

"Wh — Why would you say that?" The girl looked hurt. "It's such a beautiful name, perfect for a princess like me!"

"It sounds rather...how should I put this nicely..._contrived_, to say the least," Edgeworth observed pointedly.

"Oh...so you mean it's hard to pronounce?" As usual, his date was as clueless as ever. She tapped her forehead in thought. "I did not think of that. For you then, Prince Edgeworth," she beamed brightly, "you may call me Jen."

_That's probably her real name._

Edgeworth cleared his throat. So it seemed that once again, he was left to fend for himself against the wiles of his matchmakers' crazy schemes. This time, without even the benefit of public sympathy, given his charge's overly enthusiastic greeting and under appropriate age. He narrowed his eyes at the blond-haired cosplay accessory in front of him, and the girl blinked back, waiting. Perhaps for him to lead the conversation into...whichever ridiculous fantasy world Maya and Pearl had made up.

Well, information was the first step to a settled case, after all. He would just have to figure out exactly how much damage the duo had done this time.

"You've been calling me a prince for a while — " Edgeworth began cautiously.

Immediately, Jen's eyes lit up like a light bulb. "Ah, could you really have forgotten? You are my Prince, my destined True Love. We were star-crossed lovers torn apart by the jealous grudges of our households." She clasped her hands together, doe-eyed. "For many incarnations, we suffered through the obstacles of the gods, always remaining faithful to our most cherished bond. Naught but death could rend us apart! And now, at last..." Closing her eyes, she let a tear slide down her cheek. "Fate has reunited us."

"Frankly," Miles replied, "this is all new to me."

"Let me recount our tragic tale..."

"I'd rather you tell me where your parents are — "

Abruptly, a spotlight descended from the ceiling, clicking on its bright circle to illuminate the very corner where Jen was sitting. The surroundings seemed to darken. A flash of color, a roll of drums. She poised dramatically, hand uplifted, as if at center stage.

"Once upon a time, I was a poor girl, abused by my evil step-mother and step-sisters." Rustling and melancholy sighs punctuated her declaration. "They locked me up in a tower where I was forced to endlessly spin straw into gold, unable even to take a single step outside." A soft gasp. Jen choked back her sob tearfully, eyelashes fluttering. "I was destitute, broken...but one day, a fairy godmother heard my plea. For one day, as I gazed from my balcony into the moonless night, there you were, my prince!" Her gaze shone bright and hopeful, boring into him like twin novas bent on igniting his heart. "You, who felt a single teardrop roll down my cheek as I wept in agony, and at once looked up at me."

She paused melodramatically.

"It was love at first sight. You climbed up my long golden braid and rescued me from the dreadful tower. Alas…" From happiness to sorrow once more, Jen clasped both hands dramatically over her bosom. The waterworks started up again full force. "Your family would not accept my humble origins. They sent a witch to me bearing a poisoned apple, and foolishly did I take a bite. From then on, my body was hidden away in a castle entrapped within a cage of thorns." Suddenly, she leaned forward and grasped his hands tight within hers. "But despite the odds, you, my brave prince, fought on, waging battle through battle against sphinxes and dragons and evil, enchanted gnomes to come to my rescue, and then..."

Her last syllable held for so long that Edgeworth was worried she would break her voice box straining it...not that that was necessarily a bad thing at this point. Blinking rapidly in confusion, Jen finally trailed off, having run out of fairytale archetypes to mangle in her repertoire. She gave him a sheepish, rather bewildered smile, and finished with an anticlimactic flourish.

"Here we are."

Edgeworth tapped his arm impatiently at the truly touching story. "How nice."

"So...what do you think? Have I made you remember?" Jen gazed up at him with hope in her eyes.

"Yes," he responded curtly. "I remember that right now, it is way past bedtime for a little girl like you."

The other simply gasped. "Prince Edgeworth, are you saying..." A deep, crimson blush crept all the way up her cheeks and neck. "My, are you that eager to take me to bed?"

It just so happened that at that very moment, a waitress passed by their table on the way to refill some tea and overheard the last snippet of their conversation. Her eyes grew wide, face tense, and she scuttled off quickly toward the manager.

"Miss Jen, you are clearly underage and should not be out this late without adult supervision," Edgeworth admonished severely, trying to rescue the rapidly deteriorating situation.

But all he got was a dreamy sigh. "I love the way that you look at me, Prince Edgeworth," Jen breathed with a beatific smile. "Those sharp eyes, I feel almost like you can see into my soul."

"You will refrain from deviating off-topic and tell me where you live right now so that I can escort you home safely."

"Why...Don't you understand?" She looked up at him, sweet-faced and innocent. "I am an exile. My home is in a faraway kingdom."

"I do believe it's time we dropped this fairytale nonsense."

"But – But it's true! I am from a distant land! I have been persecuted for so many years, but the moment I heard about you, I fled here, hoping that you would rescue me like you had done so before."

"Then, pray tell," Edgeworth quirked an eyebrow, "where is this faraway kingdom of yours?"

That stopped his would-be fairytale princess in her tracks.

"Um...Well...See, I..." Suddenly, a spot on the tablecloth looked particularly fascinating to Jen. She fidgeted. Coughed. Mumbled in a barely audible voice, "N—Nebraska."

_...And the truth finally comes out._

"Let me get this straight," Miles demanded, exasperated. "You ran away from home, didn't you?"

"An _exile_, Prince Edgeworth," Jen corrected with a rather un-ladylike huff of her own. "I had to. I wanted to meet you so much. I've been waiting my whole life for you to come riding up on your white steed and carry me away." Seeing that her True Love wasn't looking particularly convinced, she turned up the charm another unbearable notch. Sparkles, hearts, and – wait, were those really flower petals fluttering down from the ceiling? – surrounded her in a halo. "I almost gave up hope, until one day, the angels of love saw my cry for help in my online journal and guided me here, just as my fairy god mother did in a past life."

So, that was it. The last piece of the puzzle. That was how the two of them had set up this ridiculous, faux-encounter of serendipity. Miles muttered, "So Maya and Pearl found your ramblings about your delusional fantasy and somehow convinced you into thinking that I'm the prince you described, leading you to run away from home. Is that correct?"

"But you look exactly like my prince!" Jen exclaimed. "With your bright eyes and silky hair, it could only be fate..." She let out a dreamy sigh, chin resting in the palm of her hands as her gaze clouded over with adoration.

_I'm pretty sure she has a completely different description in her journal._

Edgeworth shook his head. "All right. Tell me where you are staying right now, so I may contact your parents."

"I am being accommodated in a grandiose palace overlooking a majestic river."

He parsed out the details from the fantasy novel exposition. "A five star hotel, I see. There's one in the area that overlooks a river." Miles considered. "The Gatewater, perhaps?"

"My, you're so smart too!" Giggling, Jen batted her eyelashes at him dotingly. "Perfect in every way, Prince Edgeworth. Oh please tell me you will propose soon!" She clapped a hand to her mouth, tittering in embarrassment. "Ah, I am getting ahead of myself, aren't I? A good princess is patient and waits..." Although, by the look on her face, waiting was the last thing on Jen's mind.

_...Her smile looks almost predatory._

Abruptly, Miles stood up. "Here's the deal. I will take you back to your room now, and you will contact your parents, understand?"

"To my room...? My!" Jen cupped her cheeks with both hands, blushing deeply.

Without waiting for an answer, Edgeworth gathered up his jacket and tossed a few bills on the table to cover the tea, all the while ignoring the icy look trained on him by the head waitress. She didn't even try to keep up a pleasant pretense as she quickly stowed away his teacup (no doubt for later DNA testing) and cleaned up the tabletop. As he led Jen out the door, Edgeworth was all too aware of the gossip milling around him, the sideways stares and uncomfortable coughs at a grown man accompanying a child he'd never met before this day to such a...private residence, alone. At such a time of night.

"He's taking that little girl to a hotel?"

"What a pervert! I'm calling the police."

_Ah yes, just what the prosecutor's office needs. A count of pedophilia to add to my already growing list of sins in their little black book._

Miles ignored them all for the sake of his sanity.

_No doubt Gumshoe would find some way to weasel his way into the investigation only to ask me how that is spelled._

Bitterly, he stepped outside into the cool night air (trailed quite closely by the Cinderella-Red Riding Hood-Sleeping Beauty behind him) and raised his arm to signal for a taxi, only to be surprised as a sleek, white limousine glided up to the sidewalk instead. A man got out from the driver's side and approached him with a formal bow.

"Mr. Edgeworth, right? To the Gatewater hotel…" The chauffeur suddenly noticed Jen, and gave Miles an uneasy glance. "Um…This way, sir."

Edgeworth frowned. "I never ordered a limo."

"Of course you didn't, sir," the chauffeur replied, emotionless. "If anyone asks, I definitely have never seen you in my entire life."

"It's not what you thi — " He began, but the man had already whisked open the passenger's side door for Jen, who mounted the step daintily into the leather-lined interior.

_Great, probably Maya's doing again._

Against his better judgment, Edgeworth got into the limo as well.

"Prince Edgeworth, this is rather lovely." Immediately upon his entrance, Jen fairly leaped into his lap, linking her arms happily around his. "But what happened to your magnificent white steed?"

Miles shook his head, exasperated. "I am not a prince. There is no white steed."

"Oh, you are saving him for our wedding, aren't you?" she pressed on, oblivious.

"And there is certainly no wedding!"

Nevertheless, throughout the entire ten minute ride, Jen managed to make every second a declaration of love toward her long lost prince. First, she sighed, then moaned, and finally lay her head in his lap (for a princess's sleep must be guarded by her dearest!) tracing heart-shaped doodles on the palm of his hand. Edgeworth was conspicuously aware of the tinted windows – for minimum visibility – by his side, as well as the curtain partition between himself and the chauffeur. He wondered if removing them could make the situation any worse.

"Miss..." He began, only to have Jen curl up closer.

Finally, thankfully, after what seemed like an interminable ride, they arrived at the Gatewater Hotel. Edgeworth rapidly extricated himself from the little girl's embrace and straightened his clothes, trying his best not to look like he had just stepped out of what some disturbed minds might believe a…a post-coital embrace. The chauffeur glanced nervously around, as if impatient to leave. Only Jen took her sweet time in getting out, bouncing on the leather seat, flipping through the stack of CDs in the entertainment rack, staring at the alcohol menu – Miles grabbed her firmly by the hand before she could do any more damage tonight than she had already done. He steered her out the door.

Not a second after they'd both stepped out, the driver raced off, no doubt hoping to avoid any further involvement in what…once again, certain disturbed minds might consider a felony child endangerment charge. Edgeworth didn't blame him. Instead, he marched Jen straight through the double doors of the hotel and up to the front desk, a grim look of determination on his face.

"Excuse me, which room number is this gir — "

"Are you Mr. Edgeworth?" the clerk interrupted. "We've just received the call. Everything has been taken care of." She nodded primly and handed him a pair of room keys, though her eyes took on a worried look as she saw how tightly he was gripping Jen's hand. "Enjoy your stay."

Miles blinked, puzzled, but chose not to press the issue any further. All he wanted to do was to rid himself of this nightmarish date and escape as quickly as possible back to the prosecutor's office, where he would undoubtedly spend the rest of the night reading up on legal precedent for statutory rape charges. The elevator stopped at the top floor with a _ding_, revealing a single, gigantic honeymoon suite splayed out lavishly beneath twin marble pillars, a crystal skylight, the glow from the fireplace that illuminated a king-sized bed all ready for...

Jen clasped her hands together, eyes starry and bright "Prince Edgeworth, the time has come! Now we can finally consummate our love for each other by summoning the stork!"

...It took him a good twenty minutes to do it, but Edgeworth finally managed to make his way floor by floor down the emergency fire exit, if only because he could dash faster than Sleeping Beauty could in her three layers of frill-embroidered dresses.

--o--

Phoenix breathed a deep sigh as he collapsed in the defendant's lobby sofa, briefcase falling with a _whump_ on the hardwood floor. That certainly was one tight case. Perjury, identity theft, last minute evidence revelations...if it wasn't for the fact that he'd spilled cappuccino on his sleeve that very morning, he never would have come up with the link between the bloodstain and the witness's mysterious coffee mug print. Who could've imagined that Ms. Tang was involved in a smuggling operation?

Shaking his head, Phoenix let himself relax back against the couch's armrest. For all his eccentricities, Payne was still a veteran prosecutor, and he had a veteran's grasp of all the traps that could trip up even a solid defense attorney's case. Although...there was one thing missing from the prosecution's stand that day. Phoenix frowned, raked a hand through his spiky hair distractedly. Even if it had been only a week, it still felt odd not to see a pink-clad finger shaking cockily in his face every time he made a minor mistake.

_Speaking of Edgeworth…_

The image of an exasperated, out-of-sorts Miles flashed briefly in his mind.

_He seemed rather...preoccupied, today._

It was true. Just this morning, he had passed Edgeworth in the lobby on the way to court, and received nothing but a death glare for his cheerful greeting. The other man looked liked he'd just swallowed a bottle of Cold Killer X – or his own pride, whichever was more bitter. And it wasn't hard to guess why. With Maya and co. on his back, it was a wonder Edgeworth was even standing at all after what must have been last night's blind date fiasco, chosen from a repertoire of Pink Princess rejects out of a Global Studios magazine.

Phoenix tapped idly at his cell phone pad, noting the presence of several inexplicable voice mails from the Gatewater Hotel, as well as the LAPD. He pointedly deleted them. Nope, not going to get involved. He'd avoided this mess from the get-go, and he was determined to continue avoiding it till the very end. Because the alternative was...Phoenix shuddered at the thought. Choosing sides between Maya and Edgeworth was possibly the only state-sanctioned method of suicide he'd ever come across.

Nevertheless, a crease of worry furrowed his brow as he pushed himself reluctantly from the couch.

_Why would he do it? Why would he go along with Larry's charade?_

That was the real mystery here, wasn't it? And the only answer he could come up with was –

_Is it really true then? Edgeworth is in love..._

No, it just didn't make sense. Miles wasn't the type to get worked up over a silly romantic secret. He rarely ever left his job, and even then, any meetings or relationships were always tinged with a distant, professional atmosphere. Still so bottled up...it was he who had said, after all, that he had no use for such unnecessary feelings back then.

Just then, the door to the lobby slammed open. Phoenix had to scramble to confront a sour-faced Edgeworth, all but shaking in his fury.

"Wright, you've got to end this," the other man bit off grimly.

"What now?"

Following after him, a parade of the three matchmaking gurus and – wait, was that _rice_ they were throwing?! Phoenix's jaw dropped. Yes, definitely, along with various ribbons and multi-colored streamers. Larry, Maya, and Pearl were all decked out in a line, humming the wedding march as they romped down the center of the hallway with flowers at the ready. A trail of petals fluttered behind them; the banner that waved overhead exclaimed 'Happily Ever After!' in Ye Olde English script. While the two spirit mediums jangled bells merrily, Larry had somehow gotten his hands on not only a marching band uniform – the first time he'd put on any kind of uniform since class photos in fourth grade – but a _trumpet_. A trumpet, which he was playing quite loudly and horribly, much to the chagrin of everyone within listening distance.

"…This." Miles waved a hand in their direction, rather unnecessarily.

"Hooray for the newfound lovers! Congratulations to Mr. Edgeworth!" Maya cheered as she danced happily around, tossing confetti (no doubt swiped from Gumshoe's stash) into the air. She pirouetted about the floor like she'd just been awarded a lifetime supply of burgers.

"I've told you — "

Larry practically leaped onto Edgeworth's back, sniffling weepy-eyed. "I just knew you could do it, buddy!" he sobbed melodramatically. "You were great, so great." He proceeded to bury his head into the other's neck, tears of joy gushing in all directions.

Miles shoved him off, red-faced. "How many times do I need to say it? I did _nothing_. That police report was — "

"Oh, I know this one!" Larry interrupted proudly. "Backed up by several reliable witnesses, right? Everyone heard what you planned to do with that little miss last night." He winked.

"No...That's not exactly it."

"Mr. Nick! Listen!" Pearl ran up to Phoenix with a huge smile on her face, cheeks flushed pink, eyes filled with a dozen stars, hair flouncing like it had been caught in a hurricane wind. She halted and clasped her hands together vibrantly. "Mr. Eh-ji-worth is going to marry the princess!"

That drew a questioning look from Phoenix.

"So that's why you've been dressing up as Prince Charming with all those silk and frills," he teased, chuckling at Edgeworth. "Trying to attract the little princesses, hm?"

It was difficult to say when Miles snapped, but if one would have to take a guess, one would probably say it lay somewhere around the end of "frills" and the beginning of a PTSD flashback to the previous night's "princess."

"Oh, that's rich, coming from _you_," Edgeworth retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm. He pointed an index finger scathingly at Wright. "Mister Blue Suit the entire year round. Such startling creativity out of a man who went to college for art." The sneer never left his livid face. "I suppose next time, you'll be handling the fashion critique in Tokyo, and telling all of the designers that their outfits should be changed to a burlap sack and ashes, what with your meticulous grasp of pedophiliac trends in the courtroom."

Phoenix cowered at the uncharacteristic outburst. "Hey, come on! Why are you only angry at me anyways?" he asked, sweat trickling down his brow.

"Yeah! Don't be so cross," Pearl interceded, hands on her hips. "Be happy, Mr. Eh-ji-worth." She clapped and bounced brightly. "Your big day is coming up! You need to smile on your wedding!"

For lack of a tabletop, Edgeworth slammed his fist against the wall. "I am absolutely NOT marrying ANYBODY. This little game is OVER!"

"But we've already planned the wedding and everything!" Maya chimed in. "The cathedral, the giant wedding cake with doves flying out, the parade floats made of red roses, all the white horses, the honeymoon cottage in the Swiss Alps..." She trailed off, ticking each item off on her fingertips. Phoenix felt his own unease rise as he wondered how much of these were charged to his Mastercard account. "What are we going to do about that?"

_You'd better get refunds for all those, that's for sure!!!_

"And what are you going to do about the pedophilia charges that would certainly be filed against me?" Miles retorted, folding his arms. "That girl is barely out of elementary school!"

"Oh come on, Edgey. Who worries about age?" Grinning, Larry threw an arm around the other's shoulders and laughed good-naturedly. "Nothing should stand between you and your true love!"

"Well, nothing will be standing between you and a guilty verdict when I take you to court for defamation."

"Alright...this is definitely getting out of hand." Phoenix stepped between the two before subpoenas could start flying in all directions. "Maya, I think you'd better listen to him and call the wedding off," he entreated the one person who had the power to put the brakes on this debacle.

But Maya would not be so easily quelled. "WHAT?" she yelled, jaw dropping. "I thought you were on my side, Nick!" Her eyebrows drew together angrily, as her cheeks puffed up in a pout. "You horrible brute! Breaking an innocent princess's heart!" She stomped her foot with a huff.

"Who said she was innocent?!!" Miles interrupted, clearly still traumatized.

Phoenix shook his head. "At any rate, if Edgeworth doesn't want to go through with it, it's no use, right?" he pressed, hoping that some sliver of rationality still remained in his law partner's brain.

"But...but...!" Maya drew herself onto her tiptoes in a whine. "Oh, I was so close!" She fell back, head hanging, defeated.

"Hmph." Edgeworth breathed a mental sigh of relief. "For once, you seem to be making some sense, Wright." He offered a slight nod of the head and pivoted smartly on his heel as if to go, neither needing nor wanting the long argument that would surely follow.

Larry gnashed his teeth in a tantrum. "Hey! You can't just come out of nowhere and mess with our plans, Nick," he shouted accusingly. Brilliant spots of rouge flushed his cheeks, and he shoved a proud finger at his own chest. "The matchmaking is our thing. Ours! And we'll do what we want to do!"

_There goes Edgeworth's free will._

Rubbing his head, Phoenix offered a compromise before the latter could leave him with all the clean-up duty. "But of course… isn't there a simple way out that would make everyone happy?"

He felt the sheepish smile slip from his face as the others blinked and looked questioningly at him, Miles perhaps a bit more uneasily than the rest.

_Might as well jump in full force._

"Wasn't the deal for you guys to arrange three dates for Edgeworth?"

"H—hold it!" Miles immediately yelled, eyes narrowed in betrayal. "I don't like where you're going with this."

But Phoenix pushed on. "So what if the first two dates failed? You still have one more chance!"

"Oh! That's right!" Maya clasped her hands with glee.

"No! The first two had been a monumental failure. How could that possibly change?"

Pearl chimed in excitedly, "I haven't got a turn to choose your date yet!"

"Oh, really?" Miles raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I recall a certain 'princess' claiming that she was contacted by two 'angels of love.' You've had your turn."

"Oops…" Dejected, Pearl looked down.

"Well, I'm not satisfied then!" Maya yelled, coming to her cousin's rescue. "Rules are rules! You don't go on your third date only if you like the second date enough. So if you're not going to go on your third date, you'd better get ready to get married!"

"That's just complete nonsense!" The other man snapped.

As the argument came to a head, Phoenix tried desperately to intercede before they all got thrown out of the courthouse, but his efforts were of no avail. A crowd had gathered around the lobby area, curious secretaries and legal assistants milling about between trials, a floppy-haired witness in a doctor's coat, even the…the Judge?! Phoenix blinked. Yes, His Honor had poked his head out briefly from his chambers, white brow furrowed in befuddlement, no doubt wondering what all the commotion was about.

_Probably thought the parade was for his birthday or something._

Desperately, Phoenix wracked his brain for a compromise. But how? Trying to get Larry, Maya, and Pearl to agree to anything was a miracle in itself, let alone convincing Edgeworth as well. There were just too many people involved in this matchmaking business for it to have a happy ending. In fact, almost everyone had some finger in this scheme except –

A light bulb went off over Phoenix's head.

"Wait," he suddenly interrupted. Grabbed Maya by the cuff of her sleeve before she could ramble any further. "There's still one person who hasn't chosen Edgeworth's date yet."

"But, who?" Pearl asked, chewing her thumbnail. "We already went. Or do you mean yourself, Mr. Nick?" she beamed at him brightly.

"Well, no...I mean, I wasn't involved in this from the beginning." Phoenix backpedaled quickly before they could get the wrong idea about his position.

"Who is it then?"

A glimmer of understanding crossed Edgeworth's face, and he lowered his head, wry smile twisting the edge of his lips like a winch. There was some hope in this madness, after all.

"Tch. Fine then… I will go on one last date — "

Maya immediately exchanged high-fives with Larry and Pearl.

" — but under one condition." He gave them a stern glare. "I get to pick the date."

"Ehhh?" Dismayed, Maya halted half-cheer, her voice dropping into a whine. "But that's against the whole point! We're supposed to pick!"

"Hmph. I suppose you don't even know why you're doing this in the first place." Miles remarked sharply, "Anyways, that is my condition. You can take it or leave it." He turned and folded his arms with all of his usual arrogance, never sparing a flicker of doubt in the others' direction.

Larry, Maya, and Pearl huddled in the corner conspiratorially, whispering heatedly over the best course of action.

"Y'know, this might be a good idea." Larry scratched his head, thinking.

"How? He's sucking all the fun out of it."

"Mystic Maya..." Pearl admonished. "I thought this wasn't supposed to be just for fun." She looked at her cousin seriously.

"Well, what do you think is the good idea, Larry?" Maya asked, stumped herself.

"So far we've been shooting arrows in the dark, haven't we?" The other started slowly, as if working his mind around a difficult algebra problem. "If we let him choose, we can kinda get an…idea of what he likes."

"Ooooh, I like that." Maya readily caught on.

"Ah! So if this fails, we'll have some ideas for our back-up — "

"Shhhh!" Larry clapped a hand over Pearl's mouth before she could continue. "He's not supposed to know about that yet!"

They broke from their huddle and quickly approached Edgeworth, innocence stamped across their faces.

"Ok, we agree." Grinning, Larry gave the thumbs up sign.

"Hmph. Of course." Miles turned, eyebrow raising haughtily. "You had no other choice."

"So how are we going to do it?"

"Since you're so eager, I will let you come up with a list of people. I will have Detective Gumshoe perform a background check on all of them. From that list, I will choose one suitable person."

"Deal!" Maya immediately agreed.

As they all shook hands on the compromise, Edgeworth nodded his head solemnly and shot a silent glance of thanks at Wright – who merely rubbed his hair with a nervous laugh, not knowing how to answer. Phoenix picked up his briefcase and shrugged on his jacket, lingered awkwardly on the side while the three troublemakers filed out (leaving streams of confetti in their wake, another strike against him by the Judge). He had a few things he'd been meaning to say to Edgeworth...about winning, about the trial...where they went from here. It seemed like everything should have changed after von Karma was put away, and yet, he got the feeling that something was still bothering Miles in the back of his mind. The uneven glint in his dark, grey eyes when they talked each time...

He was standing there, hands clenched unnaturally tight, as he stared at some point in the distance.

"I've wasted enough time for today already," Miles said abruptly. He turned. "I'm going back to work."

"Wait!" Phoenix reached a hand out towards Edgeworth's shoulder, somehow wanting to – to say exactly why that pained expression was leaving an uncomfortable pit in his stomach. "Um...So right now, you're — "

"Relegated to meaningless paperwork, yes." Miles tried to hide the hurt in his voice.

"...That's rough."

The other merely shrugged stiffly. "I know it could have been worse." It could have been far worse, in fact, but Edgeworth didn't let himself dawdle on the knife-thin edge he walked each day, the meeting with Gant, all of these...far too familiar emotions that arose now that Wright seemed to take their friendship for granted. He turned away at the look of sympathy and walked out, head held high in defiance.

Bluffing was what a good attorney did, after all.

--o--

Sometime later, much later, once the clean-up crews had taken care of the confetti typhoon in the lobby, Pearl wandered the hallways, deep in thought. Shuffle. Shuffle. Shuffle. Her channeling robes swished from side to side. She chewed on her thumbnail and stared down at her shoes, sliding silently across the polished floor. Except for a bored glance from a court bailiff, no one else paid any attention to the petite little girl making her way determinedly after a certain red-coated prosecutor, hands wrapped around her Lisa Frank notebook tightly.

_I have to do this...I have to find out the truth!_

Mystic Maya and Mr. Larry had gone off to "round up" more dates for Mr. Eh-ji-worth. They had left her in Mr. Nick's care while the courthouse was still open. Though they said there was nothing to worry about, Pearl still held some reservations about her cousin's rather unsuccessful methods thus far…which was why she had taken this mission into her own hands, along with her super-special-sparkly-smelly cherry pink marker.

_It's the only way, and I've got to figure it out before it's too late._

But another voice, dangerously sweet, interrupted her thoughts.

_Pearl dear, don't you think it's time that you…stopped eavesdropping on our guests? I believe we need to have a little talk before bedtime again..._

She winced at the sharp rebuke from her mother. For some reason, consciences always ended up sounding like mother when she caught you red-handed in the Mystic Ami jar.

_I just have to do my duty to the fullest! That's what really matters!_ Unwaveringly, she put on a brave face. _And plus, Mystic Maya said that the mean ends just-eeh-sized the way, so it must be alright._

Seeing that Mr. Eh-ji-worth had slipped out for a second, Pearl quickly snuck into the law library herself, where it seemed that the other man was studying some of those thick files Mystic Maya always used as a stepladder at work. She ducked around the corner of a bookcase, smiled innocently at the paralegal beside her, and crawled through an opening between _Criminal Law_ and _Civil Procedure_ to bump her head smack into the table where her target had been sitting.

A soft whimper of pain, followed by a strange piece of paper that fluttered down before her.

Pearl looked at it and immediately gasped.

"This...Could it be..." She clapped a hand to her mouth, eyes wide.

On the floor was a love letter from Mr. Nick, addressed to a "special someone."


End file.
